


Bad Days

by Semi_problematic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Crush, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 00:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15918990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: For as long as Sam could remember Dean was his everything. His big brother. His mom. His dad. His best friend. Every holiday was for Dean. Every mothers and fathers day Sam made him a craft. Every Valentine's day Sam made him a card. Whenever Sam had to appreciate someone in his life, he appreciated Dean. Dean worked hard. Worked two jobs and always had dinner ready. He went on hunts and drove Sam to and from school. Dean hardly ever stopped, but he did.





	Bad Days

For as long as Sam could remember Dean was his everything. His big brother. His mom. His dad. His best friend. Every holiday was for Dean. Every mothers and fathers day Sam made him a craft. Every Valentine's day Sam made him a card. Whenever Sam had to appreciate someone in his life, he appreciated Dean. Dean worked hard. Worked two jobs and always had dinner ready. He went on hunts and drove Sam to and from school. Dean hardly ever stopped, but he did.

Dean would have bad days. Days where he laid in bed and stayed silent. He didn't eat or make a sound. Dean would just sleep and roll over. Sam didn't like those days. Though he would never admit it, he liked Dean talking. The bad jokes he made and the songs he sang. Sometimes Sam even missed Dean calling him "Sammy", that was how much Deans bad days sucked. 

Bad days seemed to only happen when Dean was with dad. Hunts were easy for them, but not for Sam. He was thirteen and preferred to read than spar. His legs were long and slim with arms the exact Sam. Dean, though, was built with thick skin and muslce. He wasn't too tall like Sam and he knew how to fight and more importantly, he knew how to win. Winning wasn't always easy, though. Hunts would go bad, then so would Dean.

Dad didn't like not winning. Sam couldn't recall a time he didn't win. Winning was easier with Dean, but dad always said he could do it without them. He would call them cowards until they agreed. That was how Dean spent Sams thirteenth birthday hunting a vampire nest while Sam sat by the phone, waiting for a birthday call. When Dean didn't help dad win, dad would hit him. A lot. Bobby always thought Dean's scars were from hunts, but they were from a more cruel monster. John.

Dad left after hunts go bad. He drops Dean off and speeds to the closest bar and just drinks. Dean does the same, but not as bad. Sam hoped he would never get as bad as dad. Dean wasn't like him. He was sweet and funny and understanding and perfect. Dad was just angry. Sometimes, when Sam imagines real hard, he can pretend Bobby raised them. They were much more like him than John. 

The newest loss was a witch. She was using a spell to track down cheaters and brutally murder them. Dean messed up and missed her head when he shot and the witch put some spell on him that took days to fix. John ended up stabbing her and spending several days fixing Dean. Once Dean was fixed they drove twelve hours non stop to Bobbys house. John dropped Dean off without a word and Dean went up to their room, stripped and climbed into bed.

In the morning Sam was happy. Dean got back late last night which meant they got to spend the next few days together. Bobby was working outside so they got to have the house all to themselves, too. Dean always loved that. Except, on bad days Dean didn't really love anything. Not even Sam. 

"Dean." Sam whispered, climbing on top of Dean. He was laying on his side, his eyes closed. "C'mon. Uncle Bobby is out working which means we get to pick the shows we watch! And you can sneak a beer!" Dean always loved sneaking around and drinking. He was only seventeen but he had been through more than most men had. Growing up fast wasn't good for him.

Gently, Dean nudged Sam off and rolled onto hia stomach. "Go watch something, then." He mumbled into his pillow. Across his back were red lines and cuts. Dad must have used his belt. "I'm not in the mood." 

Sam frowned, nodding. He knew better than to push Dean on his bad days. Once he kept bothering Dean and Dean shoved him so hard he fell off the bed and hit his head on a table. He cried for hours and so did Dean. That time the bad day didn't disappear over night. There was another one the next day. That one wasn't dads fault. It was Sams. 

Breakfast was quiet. Sam sat on the floor and ate the gross cereal while the good ceral soaked in milk. Dean didn't eat but Sam always tried to get him to. On days like this, Sam waa the big brother. He looked out for Dean and took care of him as much as Dean would allow. Sam might even like it if Dean wasn't so miserable. It sucked not seeing Deans smile. Sam adored it. Sometimes he would just sit and admire it. 

The morning slowly blended into the afternoon as Sam read to Dean. Dean had shifted, his back now turned to Sam as he paced the hardwood floor. He was readint a story he "accidentally" stole from the library a few towns back. Dean always had Sam read to him. Told him that the practice made him better even though Sam was pretty good. Dean would make commentary just to watch Sam erupt in a fit of laughter. Today there was no commentary or laughter. Just the floor boards groaning beneath Sams weight. 

Picking what to watch on Bobby's television was fun. Dean and Sam woukd wrestle to decide who got to really pick. Dean won every time. Not because Sam was weak, but because Sam loved how happy Dean got when he won. Each time hhe would grin and cheer. Sam wished he could see that smile today. Normally, once Dean won Sam would kiss him. (He used every chance he got to kiss Dean.) Today Sam didn't get to see Dean smile which made his day just as miserable as Deans. 

Shadows danced across the ceiling as Sam laid on the floor next to Deans bed. Dean was facing him now, his eyes shut. One hand hung off the side of the bed, his finger tips ghosting across the hardwood floor. Sam would trace his fingers or gently slap his hand just enough to move his arm. After playing with Deans hand for a while, Sam held it, their fingers intertwined. 

Sam only ever held hands with Dean. Dean held hands with other girls, but never boys. Sam had thought about it. Boys were cute and funny and tall. But no boy was as good as Dean. No boy would ever be as good as Dean. Sam loved him. People in his grade had crushes but he didn't. There was no room in his heart for anyone other than Dean.

Bobby ate dinner alone. In a way, Sam did too. Dean had yet to speak to him since this morning and he was laying on his stomach again. Bobby made cheeseburgers, but Dean didn't care. Sam still made him a plate. He ate salad, tucked beneath the covers next to Dean. The room was dark now, but if Sam tried real hard he could make out the shape of Deans face. When he was done eating he set the bowl on the floor and climbed back by Dean. Dean was on his side, facing away from Sam. He must have rolled over when Sam got up.

"Goodnight." Sam whispered. Dean held him since he was the big brother, but today everything changed. Sam was the big brother now. He pressed his chest to Deans back and held him close, giving him a goodnight kiss on his cheek. "I love you."

The room was silent until Dean moved to press back against Sam. His hand wrapped around Sams, his voice soft. "I love you too."


End file.
